


Find Your Way

by Reccea



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-15
Updated: 2010-10-15
Packaged: 2017-10-12 16:31:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/126862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reccea/pseuds/Reccea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the ten years since Rodney went back to Earth Elizabeth, John, Carson, and Radek have been trying to fill up the empty spaces he left and not one of them has managed it. There were gaps they didn't even know about until he came back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Find Your Way

**Author's Note:**

> This story is a loose sequel to Out_there's fantastic [Nightmares](http://www.livejournal.com/users/out_there/772566.html) and was inspired by Etben's response to that story. Thanks, of course, go to Smittywing.

In ten years John has gotten gray hair sprinkled along his temples, an ache in his lower back that almost never goes away, and a new rank. In ten years Rodney has grown about a foot and a half (though he measures it in meters, thanks very much), three new doctorates, and a no-longer-provisional license.

John has managed to cling to his post as military commander of Atlantis through one too many catastrophes and has also managed to make a few more friends (and even more enemies) in the Pegasus galaxy. Rodney has gotten his security clearance back, made the decision to not take hair-growing aides the second time around, and finally _finally_ has a slot on the Daedalus.

He's almost too late.

Atlantis has undergone three more attacks by the Genii, one more siege by the Wraith, one trip into space, and one more plunge back into the ocean. In the week it takes the Daedalus III to get to Atlantis there is one explosion in the jumper bay, four power failures, and one gate short-out that Rodney could have prevented.

And when he does finally arrive, he gives Elizabeth fifteen minutes to explain the last ten years and then takes five minutes to tell them all how very, very stupid they are. That established, he asks four times, rhetorically, exactly _how_ they managed not to kill themselves in his absence.

In one week back, Rodney has made Zelenka curse more then he has in the entire ten years Rodney's been gone, made Elizabeth forget he was ever gone in the first place, and made John smile in a way he can't ever _remember_ smiling before.

In the ten years since Rodney went back to Earth Elizabeth, John, Carson, and Radek have been trying to fill up the empty spaces he left and not one of them has managed it. There were gaps they didn't even know about until he came back.

It's three months before Rodney makes John's mission scientist cry and another week before the poor guy actually resigns from the team altogether. John apologizes a lot, feigns disappointment, has secret meetings with Elizabeth, and then he takes Rodney out to see if he can shoot any better than he used to.

Rodney _is_ a better shot, and the guns are better issue but what's impressive is that Rodney still doesn't quite have the body he will at thirty-five so he can stick fight with Teyla and not slow her down. John is forty-six years old and he can't say that anymore.

John's still better at running because even at twenty-two Rodney only runs when his life is on the line and even then the amount of air he wastes complaining about it makes bringing an inhaler along a reasonable precaution.

Zelenka has been the head scientist for twice the time that Rodney ever was, but Rodney still manages to have a hand in everything and while he doesn't undermine Radek's authority, he also doesn't always heed it. Rodney has the benefit of six doctoral theses, and while he lost some of his knowledge (had it float away into the ether of puberty) he got it back more quickly than anyone could have predicted. His theories are more esoteric than they used to be but he's been learning from the SGC papers this whole time and he knows more than even Sam Carter does. He has a mind of a young man, absorbent and lightning quick.

Rodney had been brilliant, he had been a genius. Now he's so much more than that.

He doesn't get the gene therapy until about five months in, because Carson had tests to do, just to make sure that Rodney's long-ago transformation wouldn't interact poorly with the therapy. Rodney doesn't say anything about it for two days and John wonders if, somehow, it didn't take. John's a man of numbers, not a doctor of medicine, so he's not sure if that's possible. He just knows it would be brutally unfair. And Rodney's had enough unfair to last a few more decades.

It's 0437 when a knock on the door wakes John from a not-so-sound sleep. John asks Atlantis to kindly not open the door but the lights of his room slowly come on, like a rush of dawn, so John heaves himself from bed, gun in hand, to answer the door.

Rodney's in his grey uniform pants, black t-shirt, with his hair everywhere. He's barefoot and grinning in a way John almost recognizes.

He holds up a glowing green gem and says "I figured out how to jury rig the power. So, you want to help me test it out?"

It's a visceral memory: shooting, pushing, rolling Rodney over to see if he was _still breathing, Jesus._

It's a moment John has tried not to think about, but he keeps flashing back to that smile on Rodney's face every time something new comes to life in his hands.

John had thought then that McKay was more than he'd expected. He remembers seeing Rodney come out of the infirmary an hour later and thinking to himself that maybe there was _something_ more to Rodney than John had seen. That there was a potential John hadn't thought to look for.

John looks at this Rodney, this thin-limbed, half-awkward young man with a full head of hair but still that same crooked smile. Rodney is already saying, "Maybe we should keep away from the gate room because Elizabeth would disapprove even more this time but--"

And John knows he's waited too long.

John says "Well I've already got my gun," casually, which makes Rodney look at his hand.

"You know, I could be wrong, but I'm pretty sure that you didn't used to answer your door with a sidearm."

John used to answer the door with his thigh holster on, but that's mostly because he used to not be able to sleep.

"It's been a rough few years," John says, and then "Let me get some pants."

Rodney follows him in without an invitation, somehow observing social niceties even less often than he used to. (Which, wow, John hadn't thought _that_ was possible.)

There's the pair of flip-flops John got on his last trip to Earth over by his desk that Rodney slips on without asking. John digs through his drawers and finds and old pair of jeans that will do. He slips them on, back to Rodney, and when he turns there's a shirt shoved into his face. Rodney says, "You've gotten abominably slow."

John takes the shirt, and pulls it over his head, trying not to be self-conscious about the lines of scars across his stomach from that one really unfortunate encounter with the Pegasus version of a really, really, really big cat.

When John gets his head through the top he looks at Rodney, who _is_ staring at John's stomach.

"I'm glad I wasn't on that mission," is what Rodney says, but his eyes are telling an entirely different story.

"I never liked tigers." John shrugs and finds a pair of shoes, stuffing his feet in, not bothering with socks. "The east pier, you think?"

John does actually want to go to the gateroom, lecture from Elizabeth or not. He wants to push Rodney off the balcony, watch him sail down unharmed, and believe for a moment that the last ten years were just an illusion. That he's still waiting for all the wrong turns he's going to make and all the incredibly right choices he'll find.

"You should shoot me first." Rodney closes his eyes and presses the turtle-shaped near-emerald onto the middle of his chest.

John watches the air shimmer around Rodney, is reminded-strangely-of Dorothy Gale and the emerald sheen of a great city before her, and asks, "For old times' sake?"

"I'm hoping that if we repeat the experiment step-by-step we'll achieve the same results." Rodney licks his lips.

"Jinto's a little too big to play hide and seek and let out a smoke monster. So, probably not step-by-step." John doesn't think about it until he says it, but Jinto's older than Rodney now. He's living in Atlantis, training with Teyla, and soon he'll be assigned to one team or another. He's light years behind Rodney, and years ahead of him. John grabs his holster and decides not to think about it.

Rodney rolls his eyes. "For being brilliant you are also remarkably stupid." There's no heat in the words and John's pretty sure that Rodney's thinking the same thing he is.

"Do you want me to go dig up my nine millimeter?" John reaches out and pokes at Rodney's chest, just to watch the air shift and glimmer.

"I want you to--" Rodney cuts himself off and glares at John's offending hand. "You're getting ahead of yourself. You only get to grope the shield after we've battled gravity and lost."

John raises his eyebrows; is _this_ close to protesting loudly about groping, but he knows it will come out awkward and as a double entendre. He's grown out of falling for something like that.

"Just remember to aim for the leg and we should be fine." Rodney walks out of John's room, not looking behind him to see if John's following.

John does follow, yawning loudly as they wander down the dark, empty hall. They take the transporter, which is a nice improvement, because last time it'd had been the stairs and muttered possibilities of an asthmatic reaction.

Rodney leads John out to a grounding station (he only just stopped thinking of it as 'the second grounding station' but with Rodney next to him the thought is there again. John has never been able to disassociate grounding stations with bitter, freezing rain and a high body count. But he had managed, for the better part of two years, to forget which grounding station that was.)

It's cold out, the harsh chill of near morning and John wishes he'd thought to grab his jacket.

"Remember, it'll ricochet." Rodney folds his arms over his chest and waits.

The first time they'd tried this, John had tried to sell Elizabeth on the shooting thing being a less extreme way of testing out a personal shield. The truth was that he'd aimed for the leg and nearly gotten himself shot in the head. There was still a bullet imbedded in the wall behind the Stargate.

John steps a few feet back, aiming carefully so that the bullet will bounce off into the great wide ocean and not break any windows. (In an absurd way it's kind of like the adult, weapon-riddled version of playing baseball. John was the only kid he'd known that hadn't taken out a window or piece of furniture in the search for a home run.)

Rodney doesn't jerk at the sound of discharge. He keeps his eyes steady on John's; waiting.

The personal shield is one of the few Ancient artifacts, like the puddlejumpers, that John has kept filed under 'exhilarating' and 'cool' in his head. It was the first thing to make him laugh in the Pegasus galaxy and it turns out that it still makes him laugh, a giddy rush because it worked and it's like fucking magic.

Rodney laughs with him, smile wide and full. "A balcony next." He grabs John's arm, his hand warm and covered with an electric thrill. He pulls John inside but he doesn't let go until he has to touch the screen of the transporter.

John hits the spot nearest the gateroom before Rodney can press another location and pulls back a little too slow. Rodney's fingers brush the back of his hand and John resolutely doesn't shiver.

The morning shift is still another hour away so there's only a skeleton crew in the gateroom, none of them anyone John knows well enough to name.

They're all people who had only heard about Rodney McKay, had only known the legend and they still, most of them, look at this young guy next to John like he's a phantom, an illusion.

Rodney had never had time for people like that and even now he brushes right by them without a second glance, heading straight for the balcony.

John follows but he's conscious that he's wearing jeans that are a little too tight, a shirt he's had since just after the academy, and that his hair is a sight to be seen.

Rodney has never given a damn about appearances (and doesn't seem to even now, despite reliving high school) but John's always used appearances to his advantage and he knows that this, all of it, falls way outside of his guidelines.

"Wasting time," Rodney snaps.

John doesn't speed up but he turns his head forward. Rodney is leaning against the ledge, hip out and arms bracing his weight. His arms have the faint edges of muscle that means he probably has been working with Ronon.

"Ready?" John asks before he even gets to Rodney.

Rodney hauls himself up to sit on the railing, spreading his legs out. John steps between them, Rodney's knees on either side of his hips and ten years ago this didn't seem at all the way it seems now.

"Okay," Rodney says, his voice firm and quiet. "I'm ready."

It's almost like deja vú except that the ways in which it's different are almost shocking. Rodney isn't grinning like a madman, and neither is John. They're both smiling but there's a weight between them, a space larger than the inch between John's hand and Rodney's chest.

The air is alive under John's palm when he pushes, tingling against his skin and awakening nerves he'd mostly forgotten about. Rodney's feet fly up into the air and John watches him go for just a second before turning and running down the stairs. Rodney is laughing when John gets down there and neither of them care that the entire graveyard shift is racing down to make sure that Dr. McKay really is fine and that Colonel Sheppard hasn't completely lost his mind.

It shouldn't feel this good but it does.

"If you think too hard, you'll break your tiny little minds." Rodney points one hand at the crowd and holds the other out, waiting as the stone drops off his chest. The staff looks markedly cowed, still not used to being talked to quite like that (and really who was anymore?) but John doesn't bother trying to make them feel better. He's still chuckling, still stuck in the adrenaline rush of doing something amazing.

"Come on, Rodney." John grabs for Rodney's arm, feels warm skin instead of shield but he doesn't let go. "Let's get out of here." They have only a few minutes before one of the staff thinks to call Elizabeth and John believes that one lecture per impulsive act is more than enough.

Rodney follows him down the hall, jogging with him to the jumper bay.

John doesn't know where he's going, because the transporter isn't in this direction, but he doesn't really care. He just wants away from people too new to understand and remember.

"That was just as fun as I remember." Rodney stumbles to a stop, breathless beside a jumper.

"And we didn't even get into trouble." It's a little colder in the bay, with no ambient energy from Ancient machines, earth computers, and half a dozen people.

"No." Rodney smiles, sly and soft. "Not yet, anyway."

John opens his mouth, not sure what he wants to say, what he's going to say. He looks at Rodney's clenched fist. "And you can control it now, which is even better."

"You know what the best part of that is?" Rodney opens his fist and looks at the dormant stone.

"Not worrying about starving to death." Of that, John is absolutely certain.

"Don't be so obtuse." Rodney rolls his eyes, disgusted, but he reaches out anyway, fisting his hand at the side of John's shirt.

John's older now and maybe his reflexes have gotten slower because he doesn't jerk back until Rodney already has him pressed against the jumper.

"Rodney," he says, just as Rodney's mouth closes over his, warm and firm.

"Shut up, shut up," Rodney whispers, muffled against John's open mouth.

John presses one hand against the cold side of the jumper and clenches his other fist. He wants to grab Rodney's head and pull him closer, so that he can learn Rodney's taste, map out the inside of his mouth and memorize it.

"This isn't," he says, in the small snatches of time when Rodney pulls back to shift and return, "a good idea."

Rodney leans against John, trapping him between the hard wall of metal and the almost-hard planes of Rodney's too-young body. "It was never a good idea." Rodney angles his head to kiss the line of John's jaw. "But it's still the right one."

Rodney slides his leg between John's own and John closes his eyes, caught between feeling pressure right where he needs it and the already hard length of Rodney against his thigh.

"I don't think--" John swallows because how stupid is he, to be turning this away?

"No, you don't, or you'd remember," Rodney nips at the bottom of John's ear, "that I have the sex drive and stamina of a twenty-two year old but the experiential knowledge of a man in his mid-thirties and you'd be reaping the benefits."

Rodney slips a hand under John's shirt, callused fingers skimming the waistband of John's jeans which were tight before but unbearable now.

"And you'd remember," Rodney pulls his head back to look John in the eye, "that I've been waiting over a decade to do this and I'm twice as stubborn as you'll ever be."

Rodney's eyes are just the same as they've ever been. Bright blue and where he wears his every emotion. Rodney sounds sure and certain but the way he's looking at John says that he's afraid John will turn away, that he's waited a whole new lifetime for nothing,

Rodney's eyes say he's wanted this from the very beginning and nothing, _nothing_ has changed that.

John thinks, for the briefest of moments, about the man he knew. The guy he wanted to discover the Pegasus Galaxy with. There's still hundreds of gates left untraveled, new friends undiscovered, new enemies unprovoked. There's still time and space left to find all of those things that Rodney missed out on the first go-round.

Rodney has spent the last ten years working for this, John thinks.

And John has spent the last ten years just biding his time. Waiting for Rodney to catch back up.

John says, "Yeah," not even sure anymore if he's answering a question that Rodney asked or just answering himself. He reaches out, tugging on Rodney's jaw to move him closer; bringing Rodney back and kissing him the way he thinks he always meant to.


End file.
